


Violet Sabrewing's Guide To Reuniting A Family (Hopefully)

by HowardR



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: (eventually maybe), (until it isn't), Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Dark Magic, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, False Identity, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Friendship, Help, Homelessness, Honorary Duck Family Member Lena (Disney: Ducktales), I had an idea and it's spiraling out of control oh no, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Long, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Louie Duck Would Never Break A Promise, Louie Duck-centric, Louie's Got Some Secrets Ya'll, Magic, Maybe Romance? - Freeform, Never - Freeform, Probably romance, Promises, Running Away, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Sporadic Updates, Trains, Trust Issues, Violet Sabrewing-centric, and webby is willing to fulfill that need, just let the babies be happy please, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:26:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26165602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowardR/pseuds/HowardR
Summary: Llewellyn 'Lyn' Screech was the most fascinating mystery she had ever met, and she was absolutely determined to solve him.(Louie runs away before Glomgold and company ever manage to set foot in the mansion.)
Relationships: Duck Family, Louie Duck & Violet Sabrewing, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	1. Prologue: The Cold Tunnel That Was My Home

The tracks.

It was, really, his favorite place on earth. It had been his home, once, a long time ago. The cold stone tunnel under the railroad made for a great place to sleep, assuming you didn’t mind the aforementioned cold all that much. And considering that he constantly wore a hoodie, he didn’t. He had great temperature tolerance.

The tracks were also great because you could see the stars incredibly well, this far from the city. Out in the middle of the forest. There were animals to be hunted in the woods, if you had the stomach for it and the arm to use a bow. He had both.

Of course, nowadays, he hardly had a use for these tracks. He had a steady job working at a cafe downtown, next to the Cape Suzette Public Library. He didn’t need to live off the fat of the land, though even now it had its appeal.

But the cold nights in the tunnel weren’t worth it.

Still, he liked visiting these tracks every now and then.

Reminded him of the better parts of home.

He sighed. Cigarette smoke filtered out his nostrils.

He flicked away the smoldering remains of his smoke and stood, ignoring the thin prickles of pain in his thighs. Working out had its pros, but the aches were not one of them.

His neck cracked loudly as he stretched.

And Llewellyn ‘Lyn’ Screech began the long walk to his apartment, pulling up his hood against the nip in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be sporadic. I'm sorry in advance. This fic is going to be quite a slow burn. If that isn't your thing, I do not blame you, and feel free to leave a comment telling me my pacing is awful and slow on your way out. I appreciate all critique.
> 
> This might be the only Louie POV chapter in this whole fic. It might not, but it's quite possible. I think that the next chapter probably will be, too, but after that it'll probably be very rare.
> 
> This might get a side fic of alternate POVs. Tell me if you're interested, and it you're enjoying.
> 
> With Love,
> 
> -Howard R.


	2. Trademark Lyn Screech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly, she just felt like a fool - a fool on a rusty, broken-down train, being driven by a man with a dozen trademarks and a fake yet sincere-looking grin.
> 
> (Cut line)

His life was mostly boring.

That was something he was more than willing to admit, aloud and in the back of his head. He had never really had any need to admit it aloud, but he would’ve in a heartbeat, had that need arisen. But the thought that his life was boring - that maybe, he could use a little _adventure_ \- hounded him far more than thoughts of his past did.

He smiled his most charming smile at the teenage girl who had just ordered, and walked back to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.

Yeah, his life was really dreadfully boring. He had accomplished everything normal people wanted to do by eighteen anyway. He had his driver’s license, he’d gotten laid, had his first drink, gotten a few more first drinks just in case, stumbled home with barely any mental capacity left, got in two fights with strangers that _really_ liked gloating about accomplishments they _obviously_ hadn’t actually done, etc.

By age eighteen, he had been pretty much done with everything required to be a bonafide adult.

And he was twenty by now, so. Two _very_ boring years. Staying out of trouble, attending work, doing some casual flirting with patrons to make sure they kept coming back and getting extra tips, and going home to his crappy apartment to pass out. Rinse repeat.

Add in his morning jog and you pretty much had his life down-pat, for the last two years.

He gave the girl’s order to the kitchen and went out to wait another table.

Of course, there was more to his life. Mostly in the Cape Suzette Public Library.

If anyone had told him, nine years earlier, that the most interesting part of his life would be in the _library,_ he would’ve stared at them for a sold three seconds before asking why the hell they were pretending to be a time traveller when they clearly had so little information on him.

But in the Library, there were… shocking, he knew… _books._ Books about all kinds of subjects, including but not limited to demons, werewolves and dragons. And, while he didn’t adventure anymore _per say,_ it was clear that the Duck family luck had followed him after he ran away.

He had nearly died at least a dozen times while he was homeless and on his own, from both natural and unnatural causes. That weirdo shadow demon that seemed to have some weird obsession with green was a particularly memorable instance, as was the one time someone’s crush on him had manifested as a whatever-its-name-is in the shadow realm.

Luckily, the many supernatural occurrences that followed him around seemed to calm down quite a bit when he moved into Cape Suzette - an area that clearly didn’t have the same bad luck as Duckburg.

Still. Best to keep researching, just in case.

It had been six years since he had started really using the library. He had learned a little while after he ran away that, whenever the tunnel was just _too_ cold to sleep in without actually dying, the library was a great place to stay. But it had taken a little while for him to realize that there was, y’know… actually useful information there on taking down foes. Of course, back then it had been the far crappier library in Duckburg that he was always afraid to go in, in case Webby or Huey or someone was already there. But no matter how reluctant he had been, not dying was kinda priority one.

But now he had the Cape Suzette Public Library, which was far better, far more comfortable, and had far more obscure information on all the dark foes you could ever hope to not face.

The second his shift was over every night, he went to the library to read up on ancient foes and how to best them. Not because they hunted him every night, but rather because he accepted the fact that, some day, something in another world that was far too good at hunting him down would be out for his blood.

He kept a dagger on him, which he had long since put in a ritual circle with his own blood and some ingredients that he’d rather not ever have to find again to make it useful against shades. And assure it never left his possession, of course.

He had done the same for his eye loupe. With the keeping it in his possession, anyway. Better safe then sorry.

Especially since it was the only thing he had kept from his time at McDuck Manor.

He clocked out for the day with hardly a thought, ignoring the cheerful chime of a bell as he walked out into the cold September air. It was going to start getting colder soon. It was something he still acknowledged, in the back of his mind, even though he no longer had to live in a subterranean tunnel. Habit is habit, he supposed. The biting wind nipped at his face, though he didn’t take the time to pull his hood up. It was hardly that cold anyway, and pulling up his hood on the streets during dusk risked someone thinking he was a mugger and trying to be an everyday hero.

_(Probably something everyone wanted to be nowadays, with his brothers being so popular. Nobody even suspected that they weren’t born twins.)_

The Cape Suzette Public Library was a monolith. Lyn had never quite been sure why he thought of it like that, but that was the only word for it. Though he knew that the definition he fit to the Library was not the same as the definition for monolith. The Library was not a large stone pillar, or a characterless building, or a great corporation. But Lyn liked to think of things on his own terms, and the building was a monolith, as far as he was concerned. It was massive, and its scale was almost comical. The shelves towered over him. No, worse then that - they _leered._ There was a second story, but it was simply one massive balcony that could be looked past, giving the impression that the mazes of shelves simply towered up and up until they hit the ceiling. The tables were scattered about haphazardly, with barely any thought, along with plush armchairs and teetering ladders. They gave the impression that they weren’t meant to be there - that the building had been made as a temple, worshiping nought but the books within, and that some foolish beings had stumbled in and made their home there. The whole place had an air of tension about it as a result - like the Gods of this temple would strike them down for daring to occupy this space.

Long story short, Lyn was glad he hadn’t ever had to sleep in this library. The one in Duckburg was far less… monolithic.

He whistled tunelessly as he passed the front desk, ignoring the woman standing there with tired eyes, clearly barely managing to stay conscious. He almost wanted to pause and give her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, but such a gesture would, he knew, not be appreciated.

And he understood. Contact was something he had long since grown out of enjoying.

He stuck his hands in his jean pockets, unzipping his dusty dark green jacket. He had never quite grown out of his green phase - it was still his favorite colour at the end of the day, no matter how much it reminded him of home - but he far preferred darker shades now. Pine green was his article of choice today. Unfortunately, nothing he owned matched his eyes anymore, but whatever. That just meant they were a little less noticeable, in case he encountered anyone who might remember him. That - along with the contacts he wore, making sure he could both see certain kinds of magic and malevolent shades and hiding his eye colour a little - should ensure that nobody recognized his eyes.

He ran a fond hand over a row of book spines, feeling something not unlike the beginnings of a smile begin to stir in his gut. He rarely smiled nowadays - unless it was fake, of course. He fake smiled a lot.

The monolithic shelves towered over him.

Now - he had a book to find.

He turned back to the front desk and pasted on a smile for the woman working there. He let it take on a bit of a sympathetic edge when he got a better look at her - God, she looked like she’d drop dead any second.

The sympathetic edge almost soured when she glanced up and instantly straightened a little, a familiar edge entering her spine.

He was really tired of people automatically trusting him a little more because he was mildly handsome. It was basically cheating.

“Hello.” He said, smile easy and loose (and fake). “I was wondering if you own a copy of _Maior Umbra_ in this prestigious establishment?”

She blinked, glancing down at the terminal in front of her and typing it in.

His smile widened a little.

_She knew how to spell that title._

That was a good sign.

“Ah.” She said, rolling her nails once against the desk. “We do, but I’m afraid you can’t check it out.”

He repressed a sigh.

_Alright, fine. We’ll do it the hard way, then._

He leaned forward a little, like he was sharing a secret with her. His arms crossed loosely on the counter, and he sent her his most charming grin, raising a single eyebrow lazily.

“And why ever not, Ms. Finch?”

(She had a nametag.)

Instantly, just a little bit of the tension in her spine loosened, and she smiled back at him, seemingly subconsciously.

“Well, someone else is reading it.” She paused. “And… Katherine is fine.”

Katherine clearly needed to get out more. She was bad at flirting.

“Well then, Katherine, could you be so kind as to tell me who?” He said, straightening a little.

“I’m not sure what her name is, but she’s right over there.” Katherine offered, gesturing to a table a bit farther back.

He stood fully, and gave her a grateful grin. “Thanks, Katherine.”

“No problem, Mr…?”

He smiled a little wider.

“Please. Everyone calls me Lyn.”

It was always good to be friendly with the staff. This young woman was clearly an intern, probably not here long - but it would still be useful for a bit. Especially if she ended up staying here and getting a full career.

She smiled back at him.

“Nice to meet you, Lyn.”

“Please, Katherine - the pleasure is mine.” He said as he walked away towards the table in question, sending her one last smile, sincere and kind.

It slipped off his face the second he turned around.

_Right. Time to get me a book._

* * *

“Excuse m-?”

Violet held up a hand.

_-And so, upon finishing the runic binding, the circle should be complete - ready to be infused with the blood required to complete the magicks desired._

In latin, of course, but she translated it to english in her head.

She stuck her old, frayed Junior Woodchuck bookmark between the pages and softly closed the book, before glancing up.

The boy standing next to her table had his hands in his pockets, and a patient smile on his face.

“Yes?” She said, not unkindly but a little sharply.

“May I see that book please, Ms…?”

“No, you may not.” She said.

The boy’s expression didn’t change. She decided the smile was fake.

Her opinion of him went a little further down.

“Right.” He said, as if this was something that happened to him every day. “Well, when will you be done with it?”

“I won’t. I’m buying it from this library.” She said, already slipping it into her bag.

That was a lie. She had intended no such thing. But she didn’t trust this guy for an instant, and she was curious what his response would be.

His expression didn’t change. She was almost disappointed.

“Well, do you mind if I give it a quick look first, then?”

His voice was still steady, too. Polite and accommodating. 

Boring, if it weren’t for the fact that he was dealing with her stonewalling without a response.

“Yes, I do mind.” She said, mind made up.

This book was dangerous in the wrong hands - and any hands outside the McDuck family and her own were untrustworthy.

“You may not look at my property.”

The boy tilted his head softly to one side. His unchanging smile had begun to look more mocking then sincere.

“It isn’t yours yet.” He said, as cheerily as ever.

She simply turned to go to the front desk. She had about five thousand dollars cash on her, that should be about twice what she needed.

The boy walked next to her, hands in his pockets and smile unchanging. It almost would’ve been creepy, if she hadn’t stared down literal hellfire.

“Must you be so uncompromising, miss?”

It didn’t seem like he was asking for a name this time.

“Yes.” Her voice was totally unyielding.

He shrugged.

“Have it your way, then.”

The tendril of magic aimed at her bag never hit its mark.

A near-silent ringing note filled the air between them as she turned, a bright violet axe held between her bag and the man she now realized was quite a bit more dangerous then she had given him credit for.

The man in question had raised his eyebrows just the tiniest bit, though his smile hadn’t slipped.

“Huh. Interesting.”

She flipped the axe easily so it sat, waiting and patient, in her palm. Upright and shivering with tension.

“You’re not just a scholar, are you?” She said - she had always wanted to make a dramatic declaration of war.

“Well, that depends on how you define ‘scholar’.” The man replied, smile easy and loose on his face.

“Please drop the fake smile. It’s unbecoming.”

In a moment, his expression was blank as stone.

She adjusted her axe just the tiniest bit, shifting her stance.

The man suddenly held up his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture.

“Wait. Are we about to fight?”

She blinked, and straightened. “I believe so.”

“Well, we probably shouldn’t do it in a library, then.”

She raised an eyebrow at the surprisingly considerate point.

“Well, I haven’t a fighting ground at hand at the moment.” She said, adjusting her bag - stealing a glance at it to make sure _Maior Umbra_ was still safe and secure.

It was.

The man considered for a moment.

“We could use the shadow realm.”

She raised her other eyebrow.

“You have ready access to the shadow realm?”

The man snorted. “What do you take me for, a fool? Anyone who wants to get hands on that book should have ready access to the shadow realm, miss.”

She conceded the point.

“Well, the shadow realm, then.” She allowed.

The man reached under his shirt for something hanging around his neck, and offered her his other hand.

She gave him a ‘you really expect me to grab your hand’ look.

He sighed. “No other way to go about this. Unless you want to destroy the library.”

She considered.

“...Fine.”

She grabbed his hand, and the world

* * *

_shifted._

* * *

Familiar, yet new.

The towering shelves gently curved, forming a dome over them - like they were reflected in an ovular funhouse mirror, warped into submission. Everything had a luminescence that wasn’t quite opaque.

She yanked her hand out of the man’s grasp in an instant, not quite expecting the transition to be so smooth.

Readied her axe. Shifted her stance.

She barely managed to catch the dagger that was thrown at her.

For a moment, a flash of pride rang through her. She took note of the fact that the dagger was aimed at her shoulder, not her head - the man was either an imperfect shot, or looking to maim, not kill. Both were good signs for the outcome of this fight.

A moment after that thought flashed through her, she was being ripped through the air.

The world screamed around her as she suddenly flew towards the man.

_His dagger had a return enchantment._

She let go of the offending item, but her momentum was carrying her towards him anyway - grinning easily, and fakely.

She lifted both of her legs, ready to send him tumbling down with her with a swift kick.

He dodged, turning to one side smoothly.

She re-routed, pivoting her body so she slid against the floor. She managed to stay in a somewhat balanced position, one leg knelt and hand against the ground.

She sprung up, ready to attack - conjuring her trusty mace with barely a thought.

And skidded to a halt.

The man grinned teasingly, and fakely, again, waving her bag teasingly.

“Keep your eyes on the prize, not on the fight.” He said. “Trademark Lyn Screech.”

She took only the tiniest moment to commit the name to memory before lunging at him.

But it was too late. His hand was around the _whatever_ under his shirt, and he was shifting out of existence before she was even halfway to him - being pulled from this reality, like a camera lens had unfocused from him and he had become a blurry part of the background.

She slammed against the hard ground with no enemy in sight.

Instantly, she set about leaving. She had to catch him before he was gone - he couldn’t hide in the shadow realm, teleportation ritual would take too long so he had to go on foot, if she managed to see him before he took off in a taxi then she could follow him-

She needed a ritual circle.

She flipped her mace, and it was an axe once again. She sliced her palm open with a single, brutal motion, and began to draw on the floor. She was hasty, but precise - it wasn’t too big a circle, she could make it-

She took the gem Lena had ordered her to keep on her person at all times out of her pocket, and set it in the middle of the circle with a _thud._

Magic trickled to her fingertips and into the floor.

_“De luce in umbra.”_

The world

* * *

_shifted._

* * *

And she was standing in an instant, stance already shifted to be ready to run-

“Fake.”

She stopped.

Because he _(Lyn, he said his name was, Lyn Screech)_ was tossing the book onto her table limply, slipping what looked like an eye loupe on a string around his neck back under his shirt.

“...Fake?” She repeated, mildly curious as her stance became as stiff as usual again.

“The cover is enchanted leather, not human skin. Well enchanted leather, granted, I don’t think I would’ve noticed if I hadn’t seen something like this before - but in the end, the result is the same. It’s fake.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and sent her a single cool glance, one eyebrow half-raised.

“Have fun with your book, miss.”

And he left.

She glanced down at the book - looking for something she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed - and felt stupid for the first time in years.

* * *

Lyn, two days later, slipped into the library with a different haircut and a change of clothes, and grinned when he saw _Maior Umbra_ back on the shelves.

He hadn’t had the time for any complex enchantments, but one that simply made illusion magic register under the simplest of checks that would make the woman feel like an idiot when it turned up positive?

That, he had time for.

He got comfortable in a plush armchair and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that Violet will be getting revenge for this slight. And she won't be likely to fall for a con like this again. 
> 
> Updates will be sporadic. This one just happened to come out quickly. Most won't. The pace will be slow.
> 
> With Love,
> 
> -Howard R.


	3. Thinking Time Over

Violet came back two days later.

She refused -  _ refused _ \- to believe she had missed something so simple.  _ Refused _ to. Alright, sure, she wasn’t the world’s most accomplished witch or anything, but. C’mon.  _ Her, _ missing a detail like that?

She brought Lena.

In the years since Violet had met her, Lena had… grown. She had apparently inherited her height from Magica, though everyone refused to acknowledge that this was why she had grown into such a stringbean. She was more then a head taller then Violet by now, which was quite useful in some situations but occasionally utterly infuriating. She glanced up and down as she entered the library, taking in every detail in a moment.

“It’s wonderful, I know.” Violet said, shifting her sweater collar a bit. She’d gone with something a bit brighter today - a nice shade of blue. Hopefully Dewey wouldn’t see her.

“Is it?” Lena hummed, inspecting a rickety table as they passed it.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Lena snickered under her breath.

“Webbigail would appreciate it.” Violet said, drawing herself up to full height as they reached the shelves she was aiming for. Not that it did much good - even with a slouch, Lena would’ve had a few inches on her.

And Lena didn’t slouch.

“But I’m what’cha got.” Lena fired back, without heat.

“Yes. You are. So, the book should be… yes, here.”

She slipped  _ Maior Umbra _ off the shelf and handed it to Lena, who gave it a passing glance.

“Mm. Not a very creative title. Poorly translated,” she went on, flipping through it quickly. “Whoever copied this in Latin was a hack of the highest order. Its got some interesting spells, but nothing I don’t already know. What’s so important about it?”

“It’s got some dangerous information.” Violet said instantly.

“Well, sure, but so does any book on toxicology. What makes  _ this _ volume so damn important to you?”

“Someone else was trying to check it out yesterday.”

Lena just stared at her for a moment.

“...Oh no. The humanity. Somebody has a hobby.”

Violet glared at her a little. 

“They fought me for it.”

Lena blinked. “...What?”

“In the shadow realm. He had something around his neck that gave him instant access.”

_ That _ made Lena perk up. 

“Instant? No incantation or anything?”

“He just grabbed it.” Violet said, glancing down at the book and running a hand across the front. “We dueled. He managed to take my bag, but-”

“Wait,  _ what?” _ Lena said, cutting her off in that incredibly rude way of her’s. “You actually  _ fought him? _ Like, with weapons?”

“Yes.” Violet glanced back up at her. “I couldn’t let this infor-”

“Jesus, Vi! You can’t just go fighting people because they want to read a book in a  _ public library!” _

“Yes, I can. Clearly.”

Lena burrowed her head in her hands, and Violet took it as an invitation.

“As I was saying - he managed to take my bag, but claimed the book was a fake. The claim held up under a spell check, but I decided to call in an expert.”

Lena glanced up.

Paused.

“Wait -  _ I’m _ the expert?”

“Who else?” Violet said, picking a bit of grime out from under her nails.

“Webby? Della?  _ You? _ Huey, maybe? - I mean, he’s the one you’ve got a cru-”

“I do not have a crush on Hubert, and he is not a professional. Webbigail is capable, but excitable, next to unable to keep a secret and unfit for a job like this. And Della hasn’t been capable of much for the last decade or so.”

There was a moment of silence.

“...Fine, I’ll take a look.” Lena said, opening the book again. “But try not to get into fights with strangers again, Vi.”

“I make no promises.”

Lena ran a finger down the page, gathering up a bit of dust. She ground it between her fingers.

“Hm. Well, this should be a simple enough fix.”

Lena snapped her fingers, and a thick blue coating dripped around the book - and then furled up like a dead insect, dissipating in record time.

She blinked.

“...Huh.”

“What?” Violet said, peering at the unchanged book.

“...What did you say this guy’s name was again?”

“I didn’t, but he called himself Lyn Screech.”

Lena grinned.

“Well, Vi - I think you got conned.”

Violet blinked.

“...What?”

“He did an incredibly simple illusion spell that would register under a check, but wouldn’t actually change the book. Probably took about two seconds.” Lena said, snapping the book shut and setting it on the table. “Your guy probably waited until you left and then read the book while you were gone. Pretty clever.”

Violet stared.

“...He conned me.”

“Yep.” Lena said, leaning against the table and peering around the place lazily.

“He beat me in a fight. And then conned me.”

“You should take lessons from this guy.” Lena said, with a perfect deadpan.

“...Perhaps I should reevaluate some things.”

Lena nodded. “Maybe, Vi. We all need an ego check every now and then.”

Violet tilted her head down and peered at her shoes, deep in thought.

“...Vi.”

She glanced up.

“Hm?”

“Whatever you’re planning - don’t do it.”

Violet didn’t answer.

* * *

Lyn was working.

His life was pretty simple. The regular monster attacks had stopped since he left Duckburg. He had very little to worry about without them, except maybe seeing one of his brothers or something.

That was pretty much his main worry nowadays, actually.

It was ridiculous, of course. His  _ family _ had no reason to visit this place. Ever. If they did, they had no reason to step into the little cafe Lyn worked in. Or the library he read in. Or the apartment building he lived in. And considering those places and the grocery store were pretty much the only spots he could ever be seen, there was no reason for anyone he used to know to ever see him.

Even if they did - would they even recognize him? Probably not. He was eleven years older, he had different hair, he was paler, he had his contacts to hide his eye colour as much as possible - even his voice had changed. Sure, he hadn’t made any super dedicated effort to hide his identity, but still. He was pretty unrecognizable.

...Probably.

...Maybe.

...Hopefully.

The only thing that could give him away is if he had a significant reaction - and he had a  _ very _ good poker face.

He stepped into the kitchen, and let out a long sigh.

When he opened his eyes, Nate was smiling softly at him.

“Ey, pal. Have’n a hard time there? Need me to work a shift or two for ya?”

Lyn did his best to smile back. It was fake as hell, but Nate wouldn’t know that. “No thanks, Nate. I’m all good. Just needed a sec.”

“Well, that’s good, pal - especially cause there’s some coffee that needs to be brought to the couple in the back,” Nate said, giving him a slightly more sardonic easy-going smile.

“Got it.”

* * *

And then work was over.

To the library Lyn went.

The day was a little warmer this time. Just a little. The wind still bit at his face, though. Which wasn’t very appreciated.

Cold cold cold.

Lyn hated the cold. He could stand it, but he hated it. It made him feel… lost. Burned him in prickles. And it… scared him a little, too. Because, no matter how hard he tried - he could never forget those nights in the tunnel. Alone. Cold. Desperate, hungry and thirsty. Almost -  _ almost _ \- wishing he were just back in the mansion. Back where everything made sense. Back where he didn’t have to wonder about things - things like who he was, or what he wanted from life, or why he wanted those things…

Back with his  _ family. _

He sneered a little.

This time, he pulled up his hood. Screw people thinking he might be a mugger - it didn’t matter. If someone beat him up, so be it. 

He wanted to sneer. He wanted to look down, and not have people know just how angry he was. He wanted to feel, tonight, while he walked.

The night was raw against his skin.

His  _ family. _

His  _ family _ \- who ripped his dreams from his hands. His  _ family _ \- who took away his legacy, his company, his greatest wish. His  _ family _ \- who…

Probably didn’t even care that he was gone.

They certainly didn’t act like it. In all those interviews, stories, headlines - it was never  _ Duck Family in a Depressive Rut. _ Instead, it was another story about how they had bested a monster, or taken a temple, or saved Duckburg.

He managed to mostly avoid that kind of news in Cape Suzette, though. Not much from Duckburg really impacted this place  _ too _ much.

_ (...What would his brothers even think of him? Now?) _

He shook the thought off without hesitance.

That wasn’t something he needed to worry about.

Besides - he was here. At the library. At the monolith.

Thinking time over.

* * *

Violet saw him sit down from across the room, with a book in his hands.

She couldn’t quite tell what he had gotten from all the way over here - but it hardly mattered much.

She stood.

He was turned away from her, luckily. Which meant it was time to get just a little bit of revenge.

Just for fun, of course. She just liked sneaking up on people. Which was all there was to it. And nothing else.

She creeped up behind him, silent as a mouse.

“...Screech.”

She said it as harshly as she could manage, considering they were in a library.

It worked.

Screech startled,  _ badly. _ Like - really  _ really _ badly. His entire body reacted, all at once - as if she had put a live wire to him. He nearly leaped out of his chair, and the effort of his head snapping around towards her was enough that it looked like he snapped his neck.

She, for a moment, almost felt bad.

The feeling vanished like smoke, though, when she remembered that this person had  _ thrown a dagger at her shoulder. _

“...That was your name, correct?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Lyn Screech?”

After a moment, he smiled easily. “That’s me. Is there something you needed?”

She almost admired his mask. One moment, he had looked like he was ready to stab her - the next, he was all easy smiles and deception again.

_ “Needed _ is a strong word,” Violet said. “I would use the word  _ wanted.” _

“Well, is there something you wanted?” Screech asked, expression unchanging.

“Well, seeing you jump like a kangaroo was nice,” Violet admitted, very seriously.

She was almost disappointed when his mask didn’t even crack.

“Is there something you wanted?” he repeated, with the exact same intonation and tone.

It was honestly a little creepy.

“Nothing at all,” she said, stepping back calmly. “Enjoy your book.”

She walked away with a head full of interesting thoughts and questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o.
> 
> You might not remember, but I said updates were gonna be slow. And they were. I think it's been like - four months? Maybe five? Something like that.
> 
> However long it's been, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> This mad lad is gonna be a sloooooow burn. I'm not even 100% sure of what ships I want yet - though you might be able to guess what the primary ship is gonna be pretty easily <-<
> 
> I normally don't ship het stuff, but this is the exception that proves the rule, I guess.
> 
> I've already got so many plans for this fic. It's gonna be a real character-driven one, but hopefully it'll be nice anyway.
> 
> So. Right.
> 
> With Love,
> 
> -Howard R.


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